pouring rain | s. mendes

t w o

Jordin's POV

The uncomfortable feeling of tongue, and slime swiping against my jaw caused me to awake in a panicked manner. I almost considered attacking, until I saw a dog withdrawing his head. A laugh escaped my lips as they graced a smile, shaking his paws.

"Good morning, Brady." I greeted, earning a small howl in response.

With a small shuffle of his fur, I shifted my position to catch a glance of my clock. I then ended up whipping the blanket off and tearing whatever clothes were in my reach. Practically sprinting to the bathroom, I had rushed past a morning welcome from my mother; as she proceeded downstairs with a basket of newly dried clothing.

"Sorry, mom-gonna be late!" I mumbled out before shutting the door roughly, creating an echoed bang through the room. Ignoring the rough gesture I began the usual-but, more frantic-routine.

Brush, wash, wipe, clothes.

The four had passed with fluster, finishing with enough breath to last. Fumbling with the remaining pieces of clothing, I then decided to ignore shrugging on a cardigan; which I was sure to regret later on.

With Brady following my rhythmic gallops down the stairs, my mother then threw me an apple along with a granola bar-acknowledging the little time I had.

"Usual mornings." She breaths out. I couldn't help but say it was true, I was normally late.

But not this late.

I salute her jokingly with my backpack slung over one shoulder and the food in one hand. Quickly sliding on a pair of unknown shoes I ran out the doors. Peering down at my watch, it read 7:46. I still had fourteen minutes to get to school, so I sprinted for it.

__________________________________________

Hearing the faint bell sent me a warning.

Coming into clear view of the school, I shuffled my way to the doors. Drunk pedestrians glanced at me in confounded encouragement, as they chanted 'run.'

The first thing I see are the last few kids entering their classes; a muffled groan is then absentmindedly echoed from my mouth. I ignore the nosy secretary as my anxiety increases along with the pace of my walk.

First class - English
Teacher - Cruel ; unforgiving ; does not handle tardiness with mercy.

I grip the door knob hesitantly as I instantly hear him talking to the class, only he stops immediately as I close the entrance behind me. I attempted to give an innocent smile before turning my head back down, knowing it wouldn't save my skin.

The sensation of him glaring daggers at me as I make my way to my desk causes a spider-like crawl along my spine. He fake coughs and crosses his arms as I peer up. "Mind telling the class why you're late, Ms. Ambers?" He takes fake interest for the class to creat subtle anger.

As if they'd care, Mr Walker.

The utility of my last name is a flashing sign of warning. It gives two signals: Formality, and trouble.

I slowly put my bag on my seat as classmates shift their direction of view. "Um-" I stall with small taps of my fingers along the desk, clearly frustrating him. "-I slept in?" It comes out more of a question than it does a proper response.

I miss his long complain as I find a certain person continuing his stare. I turn slowly, locks of hair cutting my view. He doesn't look away until I do.

I zone out of the whole worthless paragraph, and settled in my chair when I realized it was over. He eventually continued with the lesson and I took notes, doodling some music notes here and there when he would take a break. Music saved me when I needed it the most, and so I'm beyond grateful of this beautiful creation.